Showing posts with label history. Show all posts
Showing posts with label history. Show all posts

25 November 2020

Tales from the Past: "Franksgiving"

Throughout the nineteenth and early 20th century, Thanksgiving Day was celebrated on the last Thursday of November. Then came the Great Depression. Businesses were still hurting in 1939 when Thanksgiving would fall on November 30, and business owners hoped moving the date up a week would stimulate Christmas shopping and keep their companies in the black. President Franklin D. Roosevelt agreed, and so "Franksgiving" was born. Let's say...it didn't go over very well.

FDR's "Franksgiving Debacle"

When FDR Moved Thanksgiving: The Presidential Power Grab That Tore a Nation Apart

The "Franksgiving" Scandal 

POLITICO: "Franksgiving": The Time FDR Moved Thanksgiving Up a Week 

The Unintended Consequences of "Franksgiving"

Happy "Franksgiving"! 

The image comes from the film Holiday Inn; even films and theatrical shorts mercilessly drubbed this date change.

In 1941, Thanksgiving was officially designated as falling on the fourth Thursday of November.

25 April 2017

Rudolph Day, April 2017

"Rudolph Day" is a way of keeping the Christmas spirit alive all year long. You can read a Christmas book, work on a Christmas craft project, listen to Christmas music or watch a Christmas movie.

Christmas comes once a year, but often what is going on in that year conflicts with the reverent and celebratory customs associated with the holiday. So what happened in Christmas of 1914 was all the more astonishing.

In April 1917, with fervor bordering on religious, the United States declared war on Germany, having stayed neutral even after a great number of Americans were killed in the torpedoing of the ocean liner Lusitania in 1915, finally spurred into action by the infamous Zimmerman Telegram. "The Great War" was already in its third year, scarring Europe with trenches slashed across the landscape and grinding both Triple Alliance and Triple Entente personnel into small pieces, the hatred against each other seemingly never ending. However, events that took place during the Christmas season of 1914 gave a bit of lie to that hatred.

From "The Illustrated London News"

CHRISTMAS BOOK REVIEW
Christmas Truce: The Western Front, December 1914, Malcolm Brow & Shirley Seaton
The weary British troops, already sick of war after five months in the field, were astonished on Christmas Eve of 1914 when the "Huns" in the enemy trench on the opposite side of No-Man's Land, a nightmare landscape of barbed wire, caltrops, chevaux de frise, and dead bodies (both of men and horses), dropped their weapons and waved their hands or a white flag and called to the "Tommies" a message of peace for Christmas. While this was not an orchestrated truce and it did not happen between all adversaries, it was celebrated by enough men that word of it got home to England via letters to family and it was publicized in the newspapers. One hundred years later it is still an amazing story, but, if you read this book you will realize that most of the men did not even have any malice toward each other; they were simply fighting because their governments told them so. The British "Tommies" talked to numerous "Hun" who had, not months earlier, worked as waiters, barbers, teachers, etc. in Great Britain.

The authors have assembled their story about the Truce from actual letters and reports written by the British and the German men who took part, chronicling cold weather, death, and hardship interrupted by surprising overtures of Peace on Earth: the trading of food and tobacco, a few unofficial games of football, singing to each other over No-Man's Land, and men willing to fire into the air to preserve a few more days of Christmas spirit. The text is a bit dry, but it's a very complete account of what happened (and what didn't happen) on that extraordinary Christmas of 1914. Students of history, especially military history, should enjoy.

31 December 2016

Christmas Reading

Yes, I've cheated. I let the books get away from me, so instead of individual day reviews, here they are all in one fell swoop for the rest of December.

Remember, Christmas isn't over yet...

book icon  Christmas: A History, Mark Connelly
I had never seen this history of Christmas in Great Britain and worried when I ordered it that it might be too similar to Gavin Weightman's Christmas Past. I needn't have worried; Connelly takes a different tack in talking about the traditional English Christmas. The notion has usually been that Charles Dickens' A Christmas Carol and Washington Irving's Old Christmas re-invented the holiday, but Connelly believes that Christmas was there all along, changing with the years, and Dickens and Irving just described what was going on, and he also explains how Christmas, although its customs have come from places as varied as Germany and the Netherlands, has become very much an English holiday.

I just loved this book. There are long detailed chapters about how the Victorians idolized the medieval Christmas (something I also noted in those old issues of "St. Nicholas" magazine; lots of stories of knights of old celebrating Christmas), the origins of the unique English pantomimes and how even in the late 19th century people were complaining that they weren't as good as they used to be because they failed to use the original characters like Harlequin anymore, how post-Victorian Britons rejected the folk carols in favor of "real" English music, plus more chapters about different celebrations around the Empire (was a warm weather Christmas even legitimate?), the spread of commercialism in the celebration, Christmas in relation to radio broadcasts (including the Monarch's classic speech), and Christmas in British films and on British television. It's a real treat if you are interested in the history of the holiday and especially of how the British have contributed to the celebration and our conceptions of Christmas.

book icon  Krampusnacht: Twelve Nights of Krampus, edited by Kate Wolford
For those of you who deplore the "sticky sweetness" of Christmas, have we got a book for you. The old St. Nicholas was less forebearing than his modern North Pole counterpart, and in most parts of Europe he traveled with a dark assistant (Pelznichol, Bellsnickel, Black Peter, etc.) who punished the naughty children the good bishop didn't want to touch. The most horrendous of these forms was the Krampus, a horned, hoofed beast with a long red tongue who carried a basked upon his back to carry the naughty ones away.

And here are twelve tales of Krampus in all his sinister power, from a smitten toy store employee who agrees to play Krampus if it pleases the girl of his dreams without knowing what he's getting into, a little girl who gets revenge on a pesty brother, a wealthy yet sinister Victorian man whose precise life is about to take a wrong turn (at least for him), the story of a meeting in a pub that goes terribly wrong, a retired policeman who's tired of the neighbor kid vandalizing his Christmas display, and seven more tales of revenge and fantasy. My favorite was "The Wicked Child," which actually paints a different picture of Krampus, but I found "Santa Claus and the Little Girl Who Loved to Sing and Dance" unsettling based on how it ended. Actually, most of the stories herein are "a little creepy." Definitely not for younger children!

This is definitely "something different" for Christmas!

book icon  Christopher Radko's Ornaments, Olivia Bell Buehl
If you collect Radko ornaments, you know the story: the Radko family had fragile, historical glass ornaments going back to the 1800s, carefully purchased by great- and grandparents. One year young Christopher bought a new tree stand and carefully fastened the family tree into it. After it was decorated, the tree stand collapsed, and most of the fragile ornaments were destroyed. Heartbroken, Radko traveled to Germany, where most of the ornaments were made, and found that the glass ornament business had pretty much died due to cheaper alternatives. But the molds were still there...

This is the story of Radko ornaments and how he took the risk in reviving the old glassblowing skills, with pages and pages of photographs of the beautiful creations. Frankly, the text is a bit embarrassing, as the self-congratulation goes on forever. Better is the story of the ornaments, but these older ornaments (the book was published in 1999) are a far cry from the overly-glittered ones that they sell today at inflated prices. Frankly, after seeing the originals I don't understand why they have to be so overdone today. Anyway, this book is perfect for vintage ornament lovers and those who are interested in the secrets behind making them.

book icon  Swedish Christmas, Catarina Lundgren Astrom and Peter Astrom
This is a lovely full-color volume about Swedish Christmas customs as recalled by a Swedish woman now living in the United States. Starting with the first Sunday of Advent, Astrom chronicles holiday preparations and all the stops along the way (Nobel Day, Lucia Day, Dipper Day) through St. Knut's Day on January 13. There are recipes (according to Astrom, a Swedish Christmas is pretty much just an excuse for eating!) and even a few crafts, and wonderful photographs of simple customs and midwinter landscapes. The memories are recorded with such affection you want to jump into the book and join the celebrations.

And who knew a favorite Swedish Christmas custom was watching Donald Duck on Christmas Day?

book icon  The Bark Before Christmas, Laurien Berenson
Now back helping special needs kids full time at her old private school, Melanie Travis Driver has been saddled with organizing the annual Christmas bazaar. Luckily, she discovers that her committee has things well in hand, and the school headmaster has even arranged for the Santa Claus to be stationed at a pet photo booth. She's expecting only small problems to pop up—until one of the school alumni, Sandra McAvoy, loses her valuable show dog, a West Highland White Terrier who is on his way up in the dog show world, and the hand-picked Santa Claus is found dead. Sandra vows to sue the school if little "Kiltie" isn't found, and Melanie is volunteered to ferret out the dognapper.

There's much more going on than the mystery in this story: the Driver family gearing up for Christmas, Davey entering his first dog shows, Melanie's work with her students, a police officer who can't believe "this dog business" would be serious enough to cause a murder, and the marriage of Melanie's ex-husband to someone she (and the family) really like. I figured out one of the accomplices quickly enough, but the ending has a bad taste due to the fate of one of the supporting characters. It will make you angry that some people allow this to happen.

As a bonus, the book has a Christmas novella at the end called "A Christmas Howl" that harks back to when Aunt Peg was still married to her husband Max. We meet Melanie and Frank as teenagers and learn a little more about their parents. Some of the revelations aren't happy ones.

book icon  The Further Adventures of Ebenezer Scrooge, Charlie Lovett
Ebenezer Scrooge was as good as his word. For twenty years he has been so generous he still lives in his gloomy digs while providing for the poor. He says "Merry Christmas" every day of his life, even in the depths of summer. It is, in fact, a warm midsummer day when he meets again with his ghostly friend Jacob Marley and finds to his dismay that all his good deeds have not helped his chain-bound partner's burden much. So Scrooge sets out to catch bigger fish: send his well-spoken nephew to Parliament to plead for the poor, talk his creditors into helping debtors, and convince Bob Cratchit not to be such a workaholic.

Using the same format as A Christmas Carol, Scrooge asks Marley to send back the spirits who helped him. Lovett borrows Dickens' passages freely in order for these transformations to take place. Frankly, the result is dreadful. The emotions that so permeated the original book are sadly missing, and it's hard to imagine Bob Cratchit becoming such a nose-to-the-grindstone bore. When Scrooge is transformed you want to cheer. When this book ends, you're relieved. I'd skip it.

book icon  Dear Santa,Mary Harrell-Sesnick
This is a sweet collection of letters to Santa Claus from the late 19th century through 1920. Back in those days, Santa Claus letters were taken to the local newspapers, where often some wealthy benefactor would take the name of a poverty-stricken family and help them. These selections were taken from these newspaper offerings. Some of them are charming snapshots of the time: children asking "Dear Santy" for "arctics" (galoshes), velocipedes, silver "hartes," and other vintage toys. Others are sad, with children asking for clothing and extra food for their siblings and widowed mothers who are working hard to support them. Modern people may be surprised for requests for items that are now everyday things in grocery stores, like oranges, nuts, and apples. Sometimes the missives are unintentionally funny, like the boy who asks for a rubber ball that won't break windows. The letters are divided by decades, with notes to explain unfamiliar terms like "hartes" (they're charms, like for a bracelet). It's a neat look back into the past.

book icon  Sleigh Bells for Windy Foot, Frances Frost
I've reviewed the next three books before, many times, so if you are interested you may go looking for the titles above in the search box. I read them every year because they epitomize the coziness of Christmas. This one is a library favorite from my childhood, taking place on a Vermont family farm after the Second World War. Windy Foot is a pony, but while he's involved in significant episodes, the emphasis is on the Clark family and their Christmas preparations, and the happiness of having guests for Christmas. Many old customs emerge, including putting small gifts on the Christmas tree (like in the song), decorating with live greens, carol singing in the village square, etc. There's even some excitement with a bear that has become a livestock killer and a skiing event that almost turns deadly. The Swedes would call this hygge and they'd be correct!

book icon  The Tuckers: The Cottage Holiday, Jo Mendel
Whitman Books published this series about a family of five children, parents, and a dog and cat in the 1960s. Most are about the kids getting involved in projects or with neighbors, but this one is a little different: youngest daughter Penny, who is frailer than her rollicking siblings, is searching for her place in life. When her doctor says Penny is well enough for the family to spend Christmas at their rural summer cottage, the children discover the fun of finding their own Christmas tree, help a young mother with a baby, and even face danger with a cougar stalking the local farms. But it's the Christmas preparations and the warmth of family relations that take center stage, and at the end Penny has not only learned something about herself, but she's found something more important. Simple and special all at once.

book icon  Christmas After All: The Great Depression Diary of Minnie Swift, Kathryn Lasky
This is my favorite of all the "Dear America" books, the story of a Midwestern family battered by the failing economy of the Great Depression. Minnie, the youngest daughter, forms a special friendship with their cousin, a waiflike escapee from the Dust Bowl, Willie Faye Darling, who comes to live with them after the death of her parents, and in return, it's Willie Faye who holds the family together after Mr. Swift loses his job and, it seems, his confidence. Again, a good window on the time: eating thrown-together dinners with only bits of meat in them, closing down rooms to save heating coal, taking food to the homeless, bread lines, and the public's fascination with the movies and with radio shows. This story is marred only by the slightly fantastic epilog; otherwise, the family (based on Lasky's own mother and aunts and uncle) rings very true.

23 November 2014

Merrymaking in the Midst of Danger

Especially for "Stir Up Sunday," the day when the Christmas pudding would be made so it could be soaked in brandy, cooked, and then put away until Christmas.

Christmas on the Edge of the Abyss, 1939

BBC's Christmas in World War II

London in the Blitz

British newsreel: Christmas Under Fire

From the series Wartime Farm: Christmas Episode

27 December 2013

An Annual Event

CHRISTMAS BOOK REVIEW
"Christmas"—An American Annual of Christmas Literature and Art by Augsberg Publishing House
I became aware of these publications some years ago when three of them, for successive years in the 1980s, were available on a bargain shelf at Barnes & Noble. These oversized (as past nomenclature would have it, "the size of a Life magazine") annuals were published by a Minneapolis publishing house from 1931-1997.

Each annual had a standard format. The first part would always be a retelling of the Christmas story from the Bible in about a half dozen pages, accompanied by different art each year. One year it might be Baroque painters, another year it might be done in stained glass window style, another as a medieval manuscript. One year it was even done, amazingly, in batik! Other standard features would be several pages of Christmas carol sheet music, done in calligraphy, several pages about how Christmas is celebrated in other countries, and a "picture story," done until the 1970s by Lee Mero, which was a nostalgic feature: old-fashioned Christmases vs. new ones, country vs. city, etc. Mero must have retired or passed away, and it looks like his place was taken by "Memories of a Former Kid" artist Bob Astey, who also cartoons for Reminisce.

I happened to pick up half-dozen of these at the library book sale for a song ($1 each), and they were nice reading over Christmas. I found a 1958 and 1959 issue each, a 1970, 1973, 1973, and finally 1986. I found fabulous articles about the history of Christmas seals: Salzburg, Austria; how Christmas has been portrayed over the years in music, painting, films; George Frederick Handel; Christmas carols written in the United States; Biblical musical instruments; the various types of evergreen trees used at Christmas; Nurnburg, Germany; Michaelangelo; church organs; and the history of "The Nutcracker," and I've just scratched the surface. These are well-worth picking up if you find affordable copies!

21 February 2012

"Shrove Tuesday" from The Book of Days

The Book of Days, printed in the 19th century, is a fascinating (if occasionally appalling) part almanac/part daybook/part history. You can find the complete book in two parts on Google Books and there is even a website devoted to it. Here is author Chambers' listing for what we call today "Mardi Gras" (and, judging by some of the cruel practices listed therein, the participants may have been just as drunken). Life was indeed violent and unflinching back then.


Shrove Tuesday derives its name from the ancient practice, in the Church of Rome, of confessing sins, and being shrived or shrove, i.e. obtaining absolution, on this day. Being the day prior to the beginning of Lent, it may occur on any one between the 2nd of February and the 8th of March. In Scotland, it is called Fasten's E'en, but is little regarded in that Presbyterian country. The character of the day as a popular festival is mirthful: it is a season of carnival-like jollity and drollery—' Welcome, merry Shrovetide!' truly sings Master Silence.

The merriment began, strictly speaking, the day before, being what was called Collop Monday, from the practice of eating collops of salted meat and eggs on that day. Then did the boys begin their Shrovetide perambulations in quest of little treats which their senior neighbours used to have in store for them—singing:

'Shrovetide is nigh at hand,
And I be come a shroving;
Pray, dame, something,
An apple or a dumpling.'


When Shrove Tuesday dawned, the bells were set a ringing, and everybody abandoned himself to amusement and good humour. All through the day, there was a preparing and devouring of pancakes, as if some profoundly important religious principle were involved in it. The pancake and Shrove Tuesday are inextricably associated in the popular mind and in old literature. Before being eaten, there was always a great deal of contention among the eaters, to see which could most adroitly toss them in the pan.

Shakspeare makes his clown in All's Well that Ends Well speak of something being 'as fit as a pancake for Shrove Tuesday.' It will be recollected that the parishioners of the Vicar of Wakefield 'religiously ate pancakes at Shrovetide.' Hear also our quaint old friend, the Water Poet—'Shrove Tuesday, at whose entrance in the morning all the whole kingdom is in quiet, but by that time the clock strikes eleven, which (by the help of a knavish sexton) is commonly before nine, there is a bell rung called Pancake Bell, the sound whereof makes thousands of people distracted, and forgetful either of manners or humanity. Then there is a thing called wheaten flour, which the cooks do mingle with water, eggs, spice, and other tragical, magical enchantments, and then they put it by little and little into a frying-pan of boiling suet, where it makes a confused dismal hissing (like the Lernian snakes in the reeds of Acheron), until at last, by the skill of the cook, it is transformed into the form of a flip-jack, called a pancake, which ominous incantation the ignorant people do devour very greedily.'

It was customary to present the first pancake to the greatest slut or lie-a-bed of the party, 'which commonly falls to the dog's share at last, for no one will own it their due.' Some allusion is probably made to the latter custom in a couplet placed opposite Shrove Tuesday in Poor Robin's Almanack for 1677:

'Pancakes are eat by greedy gut,
And Hob and Madge run for the slut.'


In the time of Elizabeth, it was a practice at Eton for the cook to fasten a pancake to a crow (the ancient equivalent of the knocker) upon the school door.

At Westminster School, the following custom is observed to this day:—At 11 o'clock a.m. a verger of the Abbey, in Ins gown, bearing a silver baton, emerges from the college kitchen, followed by the cook of the school, in his white apron, jacket, and cap, and carrying a pancake. On arriving at the school-room door, he announces himself, 'The cook;' and having entered the school-room, he advances to the bar which separates the upper school from the lower one, twirls the pancake in the pan, and then tosses it over the bar into the upper school, among a crowd of boys, who scramble for the pancake; and he who gets it unbroken, and carries it to the deanery, demands the honorarium of a guinea (sometimes two guineas), from the Abbey funds, though the custom is not mentioned in the Abbey statutes: the cook also receives two guineas for his performance.

Among the revels which marked the day, football seems in most places to have been conspicuous. The London apprentices enjoyed it in Finsbury Fields. At Teddington, it was conducted with such animation that careful householders had to protect their windows with hurdles and bushes. There is perhaps no part of the United Kingdom where this Shrovetide sport is kept up with so much energy as at the village of Scone, near Perth, in Scotland. The men of the parish assemble at the cross, the married on one side and the bachelors on the other; a ball is thrown up, and they play from two o'clock till sunset. A person who witnessed the sport in the latter part of the last century, thus describes it: 'The game was this: he who at any time got the ball into his hands, ran with it till overtaken by one of the opposite party; and then, if ho could shake himself loose from those on the opposite side who seized him, he ran on; if not, he threw the ball from him, unless it was wrested from him by the other party, but no party was allowed to kick it. The object of the married men was to hang it, that is, to put it three times into a small hole on the moor, which was the dool, or limit, on the one hand: that of the bachelors was to drown it, or dip it three times in a deep place in the river, the limit on the other: the party who could effect either of these objects won the game; if neither one, the ball was cut into equal parts at sunset. In the course of the play, there was usually some violence between the parties; but it is a proverb in this part of the country', that "A' is fair at the ba' o' Scone."'

Taylor, the Water Poet, alludes to the custom of a fellow carrying about' an ensign made of a piece of a baker's mawkin fixed upon a broomstaff,' and making orations of nonsense to the people. Perhaps this custom may have been of a similar nature and design to one practised in France on Ash Wednesday. The people there 'carry an effigy, similar to our Guy Fawkes, round the adjacent villages, and collect money for his funeral, as this day, according to their creed, is the burial of good living. After sundry absurd mummeries, me corpse is deposited in the earth.'* In the latter part of the last century, a curious custom of a similar nature still survived in Kent. A group of girls engaged themselves at one part of a village in burning an uncouth image, which they called a holly boy, and which they had stolen from the boys while the boys were to 5o found in another part of the village burning a like effigy, which they called the ivy girl, and which they had stolen from the girls; the ceremony being in both cases accompanied by loud huzzas. These are fashions, we humbly opine, smacking of a very early and probably pagan origin. At Bromfield, in Cumberland, there used to be a still more remarkable custom. The scholars of the free school of that parish assumed a right, from old use and wont, to bar out the master, and keep him out for three days. During the period of this expulsion, the doors were strongly barricaded within j and the boys, who defended it like a besieged city, were armed in general with guns made of the hollow twigs of the elder, or bore-tree. The master, meanwhile, made various efforts, by force and stratagem, to regain his lost authority. If ho succeeded, heavy tasks were imposed, and the business of the school was resumed and submitted to; but it more commonly happened that all his efforts were unavailing. In this case, after three days' siege, terms of capitulation were proposed by the master and accepted by the boys. The terms always included permission to enjoy a full allowance of Shrovetide sports.

In days not very long gone by, the inhumane sport of throwing at cocks was practised at Shrovetide, and nowhere was it more certain to be seen than at the grammar-schools. The poor animal was tied to a stake by a short cord, and the unthinking men and boys who were to throw at it, took their station at the distance of about twenty yards. Where the cock belonged to some one disposed to make it a matter of business, twopence was paid for three shies at it, the missile used being a broomstick. The sport was continued till the poor creature was killed outright by the blows. Such tumult and outrage attended this inhuman sport a century ago, that, according to a writer in the Gentleman's Magazine, it was sometimes dangerous to be near the place where it was practised. Hens were also the subjects of popular amusement at this festival. It was customary in Cornwall to take any one which had not laid eggs before Shrove Tuesday, and lay it on a barn-floor to be thrashed to death. A man hit at her with a flail; and if he succeeded in killing her therewith, he got her for his pains. It was customary for a fellow to get a hon tied to his back, with some horse-bells hung beside it. A number of other fellows, blindfolded, with boughs in their hands, followed him by the sound of the bells, endeavouring to get a stroke at the bird. This gave occasion to much merriment, for sometimes the man was hit instead of the hen, and sometimes the assailants hit each other instead of either. At tho conclusion, the hen was boiled with bacon, and added to the usual pancake feast. Cock-fights were also common on this day. Strange to say, they were in many instances the sanctioned sport of public schools, the master receiving on tho occasion a small tax from the boys under the name of a cock-penny. Perhaps this last practice took its rise in the circumstance of the master supplying the cocks, which seems to have been the custom in some places in a remote age. Such cockfights regularly took place on Fastens E'en in many parts of Scotland till the middle of the eighteenth century, the master presiding at tho battle, and enjoying tho perquisite of all tho runaway cocks, which were technically called fugies. Nay, As late as 1790, the minister of Applecross, in Ross-shire, in the account of his parish, states the schoolmaster's income as composed of two hundred merits, with la. 6d. and 2s. 6d. per quarter from each scholar, and the cock-fight dues, which are equal to one quarter's payment for each scholar. Cock-fighting is now legally a misdemeanour, and punishable by penalty.

The other Shrovetide observances were chiefly of a local nature. The old plays make us aware of a licence which the London 'prentices took on this occasion to assail houses of dubious repute, and cart the unfortunate inmates through the city. This seems to hare been done partly under favour of a privilege which the common people assumed at this time of breaking down doors for sport, and of which we have perhaps some remains, in a practice which still exists in some remote districts, of throwing broken crockery and other rubbish at doors. In Dorsetshire and Wiltshire, if not in other counties, the latter practice is called Lent Crocking. The boys go round in small parties,headed by a leader, 'who goes up and knocks at the door, leaving his followers behind him, armed with a good stock of potsherds—the collected relics of the washing-pans, jugs, dishes, and plates, that have become the victims of concussion in the hands of unlucky or careless housewives for the past year. When the door is opened, the hero,—who is perhaps a farmer's boy, with a pair of black eyes sparkling under the tattered brim of his brown milking-hat,—hangs down his head, and, with one corner of his mouth turned up into an irrepressible smile, pronounces the following lines:

A-shrovin, a-shrovin,
I be come a-shrovin;
A piece of bread, a piece of cheese,
A bit of your fat bacon,
Or a dish of dough-nuts,
All of your own makin!

A-shrovin, a-shrovin,
I be come a-shrovin,
Nice meat in a pie,
My mouth is very dry!
I wish a wuz zoo well-a-wet
I'de zing the louder for a nut!

Chorus—A-shrovin, a-shrovin,
We be come a-shrovin!


Sometimes he gets a bit of bread and cheese, and at some houses he is told to be gone; in which latter case, he calls up his followers to send their missiles in a rattling broadside against the door. It is rather remarkable that, in Prussia, and perhaps other parts of central Europe, the throwing of broken crockery at doors is a regular practice at marriages. Lord Malmesbury, who in 1791 married a princess of that country as proxy for the Duke of York, tells us, that the morning after the ceremonial, a great heap of such rubbish was found at her royal highness's door.

OLD GRAMMAR-SCHOOL CUSTOMS.
Mr R. W. Blencowe, in editing certain extracts from the journal of Walter Gale, schoolmaster at Mayfield, in the Sussex Archaeological Collections, tells us that the salary of the Mayfield schoolmaster was only £16 a-year, which was subsequently increased by the bequest of a house and garden, which let for £18 a-year. There were none of those perquisites so common in old grammar-schools, by which the scanty fortunes of the masters were increased, and the boys instructed in the humanities, as in the Middle School at Manchester, where the master provided the cocks, for which he was liberally paid, and which were to be buried up to their necks to be shied at by the boys on Shrove Tuesday, and at the feast of St Nicholas, as at Wyke, near Ashford. No Mr Graham had bequeathed a silver bell to Mayfield, as he had done to the school at Wresy in 1601, to be fought for annually, when two of the boys, who had been chosen as captains, and who were followed by their partisans, distinguished by blue and red ribbons, marched in procession to the village-green, where each produced his cocks; and when the fight was won, the bell was suspended to the hat of the victor, to be transmitted from one successful captain to another. There were no potation pence, when there were deep drinkings, sometimes for the benefit of the clerk of the parish, when it was called clerk's ale, and more often for the schoolmaster, and in the words of some old statutes, 'for the solace of the neighbourhood:' potations which Agnes Mellers, avowess, the widow of a wealthy bell-founder of Nottingham, endeavoured, in some degree, to restrain when she founded the grammar-school in that town in 1513, by declaring that the schoolmaster and usher of her school should not make use of any potations, cock-fightings, or drinkings, with his or their wives, hostess, or hostesses, more than twice a year. There were no 'delectations' for the scholars, such as the barring out of the schoolmaster, which Sir John Deane, who founded the grammar-school at Wilton, near Northbeach, to prevent all quarrels between the teacher and the taught, determined should take place only twice a year, a week before Christmas and Easter, 'as the custom was in other great schools.' No unhappy ram was provided by the butcher, as used to be the case at Eton in days long gone by, to be pursued and knocked on the head by the boys, till on one occasion, the poor animal, being sorely pressed, swam across the Thames, and, reeling into the marketplace at Windsor, followed by its persecutors, did such mischief, that this sport was stopped, and instead thereof it was hamstrung, after the speech on Election Saturday, and clubbed to death. None of these humanising influences were at work at Mayfield: there was not even the customary charge of 5s. to each boy for rods.

No such rules as those in force at the free grammar-school at Cuckfield prevailed at Mayfield. They were not taught 'on every working day one of the eight pearls of reason, with the word according to the same, that is to say, Nomen with Amo, Pronomen with Amor, to be said by heart; nor as being a modern and a thoroughly Protestant school, were they called upon before breakfast each Friday to listen to a little piece of the Pater Noster, or Ave Maria, the Credo, or the verses of the Mariners, or the Ten Commandments, or the Five Evils, or some other proper saying in Latin meet for babies.' Still less, as in the case of the grammar-school at Stockport, did any founder will 'that some cunning priest, with all his scholars, should, on Wednesday and Friday of every week, come to the church to the grave where the bodies of his father and mother lay buried, and there say the psalm of De Profundi, after the Salisbury use, and pray especially for his soul, and for tho souls of his father and mother, and for all Christian souls.' Neither did the trustees, that they might sow the seeds of ambition in the minds of the scholars, ordain, as was done at Tunbridge and at Lewisham, 'that the best scholars and the best writers should wear some pretty garland on their heads, with silver pens well fastened there unto, and thus walk to church and back again for at least a month.' A ceremony which in these days would infallibly secure for them all sorts of scoffings, and probably a broken head.

02 February 2012

Candles, Groundhogs, and Other Denizens of This Date

There are many names for February 2!


Americans know it as "Groundhog Day" for the odd custom of using the "groundhog" (a.k.a. the woodchuck) to predict the coming of spring. According to the tale, if the groundhog sees his shadow, we will have six more weeks of winter; however, if it is cloudy and there is no shadow, spring is in the offing.

This custom dates back to European folklore, and initally involved a badger. However, the rhyme which goes with the tale is even older. There are several versions, but they all boil down to:

‘If Candlemas day be sunny and bright,
winter will have another flight;
if Candlemas day be cloudy with rain;
winter is gone and won't come again."

The "Candlemas" of the rhyme is the day within the Liturgical Year in which all candles are blessed for the year. The Feast Day being celebrated is the Presentation of Jesus at the Temple or the Purification of the Virgin. It was the custom in those days to present male children at the Temple 40 days after their birth. Since the Liturgical Calendar gives the birthdate of Jesus as December 25, then the date for this event would be February 2.

There are no set customs for Candlemas; however this blog talks about a charming Candlemas tea, and of course, according to the old Robert Herrick verse, all Christmas decorations must be down by this date.

CEREMONIES FOR CANDLEMAS EVE
by Robert Herrick

DOWN with the rosemary and bays,
     Down with the misletoe ;
Instead of holly, now up-raise
     The greener box (for show).

The holly hitherto did sway ;
     Let box now domineer
Until the dancing Easter day,
     Or Easter's eve appear.

Then youthful box which now hath grace
     Your houses to renew ;
Grown old, surrender must his place
     Unto the crisped yew.

When yew is out, then birch comes in,
     And many flowers beside ;
Both of a fresh and fragrant kin
     To honour Whitsuntide.

Green rushes, then, and sweetest bents,
     With cooler oaken boughs,
Come in for comely ornaments
     To re-adorn the house.

Thus times do shift; each thing his turn does hold;
New things succeed, as former things grow old.


If the idea of having Christmas decorations up until February horrifies you, do remember that Christmas decorating was simply sprays of holly, rosemary, and bay leaves around the room, perhaps brightened with a bit of ribbon. In those colder days in homes with no central heat, these evergreens would last pretty well until February 2!

Not to mention that Herrick gives a good list of what would be called today "natural home decorations" through Whitsuntide (Pentecost).

In pre-Christian and non-Christian societies, the holiday was celebrated as Imbolc or Brigid's Day.

Here's the February 2 listing from Chambers' 19th century classic The Book of Days (this whole, fascinating book can be found on Google Books, and has its own website www.bookofdays.com).

And just a few more notes on Groundhog Day via StormFax.

06 January 2012

Epiphany

The Bible tells us two versions of the Christmas story. One is the familiar version from St. Luke, which almost everyone knows from its being quoted by Linus in A Charlie Brown Christmas. This contains the birth of Jesus, Mary's laying the Christ child in the manger, the angels and the shepherds.

It is from St. Matthew that the other familiar part of the story comes to pass. Here are the Wise Men (the "Magi," which in those days meant "magicians" or more probably astrologers who studied the stars) who follow the star, who are detoured by King Herod, who finally find the Christ child, and who "depart home in a different direction" without giving information to the king.

From these two pieces of scripture we get the image that is in every nativity set, and even in things like Rankin-Bass' Little Drummer Boy: the shepherds and the "Kings" all at the stable at once, the learned visitors offering gifts while sheep mill about. But the Bible doesn't even make mention of a stable, just a manger, no ox, no ass (these come from another Biblical passage) and there is no indication that the two different groups of worshipers met. Indeed, St. Matthew even mentions that the Magi have come to a house to meet the child. Nor does the Bible mention how many Wise Men—three are listed only because of the three symbolic gifts they bring: gold for kingship, frankincense for priesthood, and myrrh for death. And they are certainly not stated to be Kings.

Nevertheless, Epiphany commemorates the visit of the Wise Men to the young Jesus, and is one of the reasons gifts are given at Christmas. In some cultures, Christmas is strictly a religious observance, and gifts are given only at Epiphany, to commemorate the event, especially in Spanish-speaking countries. However, with the popularization of Christmas as a gift-giving holiday, there are often now two gift-giving days.

The Italians and the Russians have another character who figures in Epiphany gift giving. The story has several versions, but the basic one is that the Wise Men stop enroute to ask an old woman for directions, telling her of the great miracle. She is busy cleaning house and does not want to bother with them. In some versions she is quite brusque with them. Later, she feels badly about having treated them so shabbily, and is also curious about the Christ child. So she gathers gifts for the baby and follows the Magi. However, she never finds them, and goes from house to house, looking for the miraculous child. Not finding Him, she still leaves a gift behind for each child in the house.

In Italy this old woman, often referred to as a "strega" (witch), is called La Befana (Befana being a version of "Epiphania"). In Russia she is known as Baboushka.

Well, I've felt a bit like La Befana all day! I've been cleaning for our party, starting downstairs. The library had been vacuumed recently, but I gave it another going over, and then cleaned the bathroom. This is just in case the younger folks at the party get bored with us old geezers comparing how many days we have till retirement (or openly envying Anne and Betty, who have already retired) and wish to retire themselves, to play a game or just shoot the breeze. I also vacuumed the downstairs hall and the stairs to the foyer, then got the cheap little Cyberhome DVD we have in the spare room going with the television in case the girls want to watch a DVD. From there I cleaned the bedrooms, and also finished cleaning the hall bathroom, which is the company bathroom. Willow had her bath last night (a half-hour task that is more exhausting than vacuuming) and I had to collect the hair left around the drain screen and then tackle the potty. Later vacuumed the dining room and part of the living room, put the seat cover back on James' Laz-Y-Boy (Willow sleeps in it and it was well-furred), then took a deep breath and vacuumed the foyer (again) and the rest of the stairs. Still have to clean off the sofa and the coffee table, but that pretty much involves putting all the magazines in a crate and sticking them in the bedroom. :-)

24 December 2011

"A Visit from St. Nicholas" By...Who?

Well, of course you know who wrote what is commonly known as "The Night Before Christmas"! It was Clement C. Moore. After all, it's on all the books!

But was it? Descendants of Henry Livingston Jr., who frequently wrote verse in the meter of the "visit," claim it was Livingston who wrote the poem. They cite the fact that Moore was a humorless theologian, and that he did not claim the poem as his until years later.

Some links about the controversy:

All About "A Visit from St. Nicholas" - Collaborative Essays and Articles

Who Wrote "'Twas the Night Before Christmas'?"

A Recent Poughkeepsie Journal Article About the Debate

Boston Globe Article About New Publication of the Story

The Claims for Henry Livingston Jr as the Author

The Authorship of The Night Before Christmas

11 October 2011

Let There Be Christmas Lights!

Thank you to the folks at Family Christmas Online for rescuing this website:

Antique Christmas Lights

Wonderful photos and information on the first electric light "outfits" for Christmas trees (replacing the so-flammable candles—except, as the site points out, some of the lights burned so hot that they were just as dangerous as candles), plus a page on vintage Christmas music taken from Edison cylinders, and even Christmas memories from readers of the web site.

24 December 2010

"A Visit from St. Nicholas"

An animated presentation about how Clement C. Moore came to write the famous poem.

The Night Before Christmas (1968) Pt 1

The Night Before Christmas (1968) Pt 2

The Night Before Christmas (1968) Pt 3

24 November 2010

31 Days Until Christmas

CHRISTMAS BOOK REVIEW
The Man Who Invented Christmas, Les Standiford
In 1843, Charles Dickens was in difficult financial straits. While his first few books had been hits, his latest was selling slowly and bills were due. As he worried over this truncated income, he was one of a group of men who appeared at one of the poorest of the free schools and was appalled by the hunger and poverty he saw, hunger not only physical but emotional and spiritual.

He wanted to not only increase his income, but provide some recognition for the poor. Years earlier he has written a short story about a parsimonious church deacon who is visited by ghosts. Perhaps he could rework that idea...and when the idea struck him, it struck hard: thus A Christmas Carol was born.

This little book is a good accounting of Dickens' life at the time of its publication, of the state of London's poor, and of the little regard given to Christmas in that era, since it had been quenched by Oliver Cromwell two centuries earlier. Dickens, of course, did not "invent" Christmas, but he invented a new way of looking at it: not high revelry in rich courts as it had been before the commonwealth, but a family-centered, charity-centered celebration. If you are interested in how Christmas got its start being a family holiday rather than an excuse for drunkenness, you should enjoy Standiford's volume. However, I don't think it's worth the list price placed upon it; this is a good book to buy used or at remainder prices.

04 January 2010

CHRISTMAS BOOK REVIEW: Christmas on the Home Front

by Mike Brown

This is a fabulous book I found in the Hamilton Books catalog; even more fab because the homefront they are speaking of is the British one, not the American. This easy-read of a history book portrays each Christmas from 1939 through 1944, with a postscript for 1945, with personal remembrances, recipes and advert excerpts, and even reports of what pantomimes, BBC Christmas Day programming, and sports were conducted during each Christmas season. As the years progress, you can see the decline in foods for feasting and goods for giving due to wartime rationing. The super bonus about this book are the photos and especially the period adverts and cartoons from newspapers and even the famous "Beano" peppering the text: everything from companies reminding people that their product will be back after the war to recipes for "mock goose" and "wartime mincemeat pies," dinners colored with colorful veg instead of fruits and instructions for home-made gifts like pin-on mascots made of knitting yarn. Super look at wartime Britain!

23 December 2009

CHRISTMAS BOOK REVIEW: The Battle for Christmas

by Stephen Nissenbaum

It was a long road from the original Christmas celebration in the United States to the child-centered, family-oriented holiday we know today: it began on our shores as a riotous, often-violent celebration of half-inebriated men and boys wandering from house to house, making loud noises and pounding on doors demanding liquor and food. In fact, this was the main reason the Puritans held Christmas in disregard for so long: not because it was an idolatrous birthday celebration, but because it was so long celebrated with drunkenness and incivility.

This is a scholarly but readable history that brings us from those obnoxious revelers to the Victorian celebration that is so close to what we celebrate today. Some critics wonder why Nissenbaum stopped there, but it's evident; all the elements were then in place. Covered are the drunken "callithumpians" versus the Puritan element, servants versus the upper class, the writing and influence of "A Visit from St. Nicholas," the change in the gifting dynamic, the rise of the "old-fashioned Christmas tree" as a vehicle for dispensing the gifts versus the stocking tradition, gifts for the poor, and the plantation traditions of the ante-bellum South. Also recommended on this subject: Penne Restad's Christmas in America.

25 November 2009

Thanksgiving Programs Watched Tonight

Thanksgiving Unwrapped

The Secret Life of Thanksgiving

Home for the Holidays: The History of Thanksgiving

New England Thanksgiving

and the "Home From Home" episode of Alistair Cooke's America

So we went from food to history (and football...LOL) and then to solid history.

01 February 2009

Thanksgiving Flashbacks

Check out this New York Daily News site, with vintage Macy's Thanksgiving Day parade photos.

29 December 2008

Christmas Books Online

Here's a preview of the first 47 pages of The History of the Christmas Figural. Many nice photos of vintage ads and lights!

The full text of all of Charles Dickens' Christmas stories.

Stories from the 1890s: Santa Claus on a Lark, and Other Christmas Stories

28 December 2008

"On the Fourth Day of Christmas..."

...we took a holiday tour!

It was a bleak, grey, warmish but chillish (if that makes any sense), damp day. We had a leisurely breakfast while I finished washing clothes. In early afternoon we drove out to Roswell and toured Bulloch Hall. This antebellum structure was the home of Martha "Mittie" Bulloch, who became the mother of President Theodore Roosevelt (although she did not survive to see her son become president; she and Roosevelt's first wife died on the same day).

Teddy Roosevelt is my favorite president and I have always wanted to tour Bulloch Hall. Since the Hall was decorated for Christmas, it seemed an opportune time to go.

The house is done in the Georgian style, the typical "pillared" front, in white. The front door opens onto a large hall. To the left side is the parlor, then the dining room, where Theodore Roosevelt Sr and Mittie Bulloch were married on Christmas Eve of 1853, and then the small "warming room." To the right is the library, the master bedroom, and the morning room. Upstairs are four bedrooms and a room without a fireplace (the only room in the house without one) they believe was used as a sewing room. Downstairs in the basement is a brick-floored kitchen and a stair that descends into what was a pantry below the earth where it was cool; also there is another storeroom on the opposite side of the stair that is used for an exhibit for children of what children wore, how they lived, and how they behaved. None of the furniture is original, but it is all from that era. One of the bedrooms is "the museum room," with photos and paintings and narrative on the history of house and family, with exhibits of family china and other original objects from the house. There is also a reproduction of the original "Teddy" bear, a flag that flew over the house when Teddy Roosevelt visited, and a section of rail from the line that Roosevelt's train used.

In 1923, an Atlanta reporter interviewed the last surviving bridesmaid of Mittie's wedding about the event. Her byline was "Peggy Mitchell"—later famous as Margaret Mitchell.

Outside there is a reproduction of one of the two slave cabins, a dog trot cabin, one side set up as people would have lived in it, the other set up with some fragments excavated from the original cabins and the stories of the slaves, including excerpts from WPA interviews from the 1930s of people who were still living who had been born into slavery. (Amazing to think my parents grew up in a time where there were still ex-slaves.) Very sad reading most of it; there seemed to be kind masters, but even more brutal ones, or at least brutal overseers. It is hard to think that for most of history there has been slavery; one people conquered another and made them slaves. I wonder if someday it will be totally eradicated.

Anyway, we enjoyed walking around the house, but thought the Christmas decorations were a bit...unorthodox. It was called "Christmas Across the USA" and each room was decorated as a different city or (in the case of Hawaii) location. In some cases the effect was interesting or unique. For instance, the kitchen was done in Santa Fe style, and the combination of Mexican textiles and decor went well with the brick floor and simple table, benches, and cupboards, and the primitive look of the fireplace and bake oven. The warming room was done in a simple Moravian style with a star in the center, old toys in the cupboard, paper stars on a small tree, cakes and cookies for the traditional "Lovefeast," and a nativity scene, which was quite lovely. The morning room had simple decorations from Charleston, South Carolina. The library was done in Williamsburg style, with garlands and fruits and tea set out and hunting boots and riding regalia for Boxing Day on the morrow. And even if it seemed a bit odd, the dining room done in Nome, Alaska, motif, with arctic decorations and ornaments of Eskimos and huskies, and displays about the serum run in 1925, worked.

On the other hand, the Las Vegas room was pretty tacky. This was in the Wing Room, which was occupied by the last owner of the house before the historical society took it over. Her beautiful furniture and chair collection were overrun and overwhelmed with gambling trimmings and "Rat Pack" and Elvis junk. I think she was probably turning over in her grave. The hall has Florida decorations, and the master bedroom had Hawaiian ones, which looked a bit incongruous. The Santa Claus display in the brother's bedroom and the Memphis/Elvis/jazz/blues theme in Mittie's room was a bit less overpowering (and I did think it clever how they turned Mittie's bed into a steamboat).

James and I agreed later that we would have preferred to have seen the house decorated in a traditional ante- or even post-bellum style. (Or, in some rooms, just something a bit closer to the 19th century theme of the house: Victorian Santa Claus room, Wild West room, Pennsylvania Dutch...anything but Las Vegas!!!)

There's a photo in the Museum Room of Teddy Roosevelt standing at the front of the house with all the servants and other occupants of the house when he visited in 1905. I found it thrilling to have stepped where he did. It's a miracle the house survived at all. It was occupied by Union troops during the Civil War, but they spared Roswell. It is thought they spared Bulloch Hall because of the Masonic symbols once on the home.

James bought a couple of cookbooks and some sauce at the gift shop, then we went home via Trader Joe's to get supper for tonight (the usual salad/turkey we've been having lately) and Publix, both to recycle our plastic bags and to check out the two-fers. Several were useful for our party on Saturday!

We ate supper to What's My Line? and To Tell the Truth (one of the guests on the latter was Pappy Boyington!), and then started watching an assortment of Christmas specials I DVR'd last week. Dazzling Christmas Lights—in glorious HD on HD Theatre—was a collection of features on families or neighborhoods that erect big light displays for Christmas. This was less frantic and silly than the one HGTV puts on every year. There was a neighborhood of row houses in Baltimore, a Texas housing development, a 15-year-old boy who adds to the yard decorations every year, the Bronx Zoo, and more.

The Super-Heroes Guide to New York City didn't really have anything to do with Christmas, but it was kinda fun. It was about how New York City became an actual, real character in the Marvel Comics starting with Spiderman.

The prettiest special was from HD Theatre again and was called Christmas Lights. Like Sunrise Earth and their "flyover" specials, it was just footage shot in different places, no narration, no "gags," just some background music. They started at the skating rink at Rockefeller Center, moved to a writer's cabin in Alaska being decorated with lights and ornaments with a bonfire held outside afterwards, went to Washington DC for the display around the National Christmas tree and showing some other public buildings, then traveled to the coast of Maine where children and adults decorated a tree with lights and goodies like apples, popcorn, corn, seed-covered peanut butter pinecones, and even herring for the local wild animals, and finally ended with the streets and decorations and then the Grand Illumination in Colonial Williamsburg. It was dreamy, lyrical and simply beautiful.

Sunk on Christmas Eve was a Mysteries of the Deep special on National Geographic about the expedition to find a ship that was sunk on Christmas Eve 1944 in the English Channel. Some history of the event was given and then we saw divers trying to reach the wreck.

Next was a special called The Greatest Tree on Earth. This was a really fascinating special from Great Britain about the history and the traditions of the Christmas tree, following a Tokyo family, a Lappish family, and a Brooklyn family with their Christmas preparations, and intercut with historical insights and the workings of a Christmas tree farm. They talked about the 1914 Christmas Truce and the benefit to the environment of Christmas tree farming; all three families visited big Christmas tree shops to buy ornaments made in Germany (the Finns and the Japanese went to Germany itself). The most bizarre segment showed German propaganda films from World War II, made to convince the population that everything was fine. There was a huge tree hung with Hitler ornaments and glass acorns with swastikas on them, topped with a star, under a big swastika. Talk about an unsettling sight!

The final special I watched was Christmas and the Civil War. This was quite enjoyable. Using re-enactments, it showed how Christmas went from a small religious holiday to a national celebration, following the lives of Thomas Nast, Louisa May Alcott, a plantation owner's wife, and a slave who was originally a Christmas gift to his master's wife. The only thing I found amusing was that in the scenes with Thomas Nast, a birdcage was shown in the background of his home. In those days the small bird kept as a pet certainly would have been a canary, as they were extremely popular back then. Instead shown is a small yellow budgie! Budgies were exported to Europe in 1840; not sure when they arrived in the US. It seems anachronistic. But I could be wrong.

Anyway, I plan [cross fingers] to keep these last two specials and the Christmas Lights one. Excellent watching!